SONNET 56

Sonnet 56-O brethren,chants and behold what essence do we live for?And every penitence,a rodeo of crocodile tears-ful shed,That by providence,we are bound to decline,not increase,But that that sempiternal crumple shall not a dint fadeth,Nor its hair tong lost nor loose its encroachment of this unfair plump of chicken heart'd poxes,Nor shall they be eschew'd from its steepest fall, When with ravishing cripple to time's sturdy wheel,thou a casuistry grow'st steely stiff,And tardy path,not bereft of its grooves of recumbent sedulous palms,So long as hazy they plow,thou art so fraught,given life to chicken hearted foxes,whose genteel dandy,the frozen nerve of adophobia smote,So long misty as tardier becomes,so frosty shall the hood,but dickens and daredevils and the renegade blossom,And with what effrontery,shall the nebulous righteous critique them? What rubbish and deathtrap from the pit of hell?